Hey, GENIUS
by Thekingdomheartssega
Summary: This is a comedy of Call Of Duty : BLACK OPS


Gary Sanderson shifted uncomfortably in his bus seat. Once again, he had misjudged his situation, and packed three enormous duffel bags to bring to his new outpost, while most of the guys had two, or even one.

"Hey Roaachhh! You look uncomfortable. Want a pillow?" Meat, one of Roach's 'friends' called from across the bus.

"Sure dude," Roach said.

"Sorry, but I'm to comfy. Maybe next year," Meat said, grinning and resting his head on a fluffy pillow. Roach merely sighed. He should be used to Meat's antics by now. They had only known each other for two days and already Roach was suffering.

"So, they tell you anything about our outpost?" Roach asked. Worm leaned over the seat.

"They say the Captain's some sort of beast. Unkillable, they say. And his First Lieutenant's supposed to be a real ass," Worm said with a grin. Roach groaned. He didn't enjoy meeting new people. It had been hell meeting the guys here two days ago. But after an apple to the head and a nose full of spaghetti sauce due to Meat, and clumsiness, he had become friends with half the squad. The bus stopped with a screech. The driver looked back.

"Off the bus, hustle!" he called. Roach tried to get out into the isle, but was pushed back by all the others. He ended up last. Struggling to carry the duffel bags, Roach bustled along the isle, and finally reached the doors. He stepped out, and his boot got caught on the stair. He plowed face first into the ground, two of his bags flying forward, the other coming down hard on top of his head. He heard laughter amongst the ringing in his ears, his eyes watering from the initial shock of being smacked in the head with a forty pound bag. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, he looked up.

"Well that's one of the more, ahem, extravagant entrances I've seen." A thick British accent said mockingly. The sight of the man above his was in itself, a shock. He wore combat boots, khaki pants and a black shirt. To top it off, a balaclava like no other covered his face. It was imprinted with a worn skull, and exposed only the man's eyes, which were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Roach could see a bright blue beneath the sunglasses.

"First Lieutenant. Call me Ghost. Actually, just call me sir." Ghost held a hand out. Roach grasped it thankfully, and Ghost pulled him to his feet.

"Clumsiness is one of the better ways to get killed in combat mate," Ghost said. Roach collected his bags uncomfortably.

"Um, thank you sir," Roach said, walking to join the others. Ghost folded his arms. As Roach walked by, he ever so slightly stuck out his foot, resulting in Roach falling again, his bags flying everywhere, and the entire squad going into hysterics.

"Shut it, or it's push ups for the lot o' you," Ghost said, walking towards the command building, slamming the door. Roach sighed as the others left him. He gathered his belongings once again, and made his way to the barracks.

The next day, the team awoke at five am, sharp. They gathered in the yard for roll call. This was where the Captain would make his appearance for the first time. Roach saw that Ghost was already there. He wasn't sure if that was good, or bad. He suddenly felt a hand at his waist, and the next minute his pants were around his ankles, exposing boxers covered with little elephants.

"Elephants, Roach? Tsk tsk, I expected bugs." Meat said, grinning. Roach quickly pulled up his pants, and got into line with all the others. They stood for five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty. Everyone was silent. Ghost just stood with his arms folded. Meat broke the silence.

"Hey, wheres the Captain?" he asked. Suddenly, he was in a headlock, by Ghost. Roach breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't him this time.

"You wanna disrespect the Captain again you bloody idiot?" Ghost yelled.

"No I'm sorry!" Meat cried out. Ghost forced him closer to the ground.

"You say one word out of line and I can kill you in three seconds with my bare hand you twit!" Ghost growled, holding him down to the ground.

Roach snorted slightly, and every head turned to him, including Ghost's. Roach looked around, pure terror etched into his face.

"Uhh, excuse me. Sneezed," Roach said.

"Like hell you sneezed," Ghost said threateningly, dropping Meat and advancing on Roach. Ghost grabbed the front of his shirt.

"I should make you eat the damned ground for this! Laugh at me and you'll be in a world of hurt, you want that you-"

"At ease Ghost." A new accent rang through the air. It was a heavy Scottish one, and the voice was powerful and loud. Ghost, who had Roach almost in the air and his fist raised, immediately let go and stepped back, folding his arms.

"Sorry sir. You know these new recruits. Step out of line, and you gotta rule with an iron fist." Ghost said.

"Too right mate. But it's early. I had to cut my coffee short." The man said. Ghost stepped aside, and Roach got a good look at the man. He was at least six feet tall, and looked like he could snap a neck with ease. His hair was a short Mohawk, and a deep scar cut down the side of his face. He wore a white t-shirt and khaki pants, with standard boots. A holster on his hip held an M1911 pistol. His eyes were blue, and his face concentrated on all of the men, not missing one.

"Welcome to the 141. Please, call me Captain Mactavish. I'm sure you all know why you're here. If not, then listen up. We are the best. This task force takes pride in taking the fewest casualties, making the most kills, and stopping terror on every inch of the planet. There is nothing we cannot do, no enemy we cannot defeat. I want to see just how good you all are. For the next four weeks, you will undergo some of the most intense training of your lives. This makes the marine corps look like a picnic, so be ready. You start in an hour, and Ghost supervises most of your training. So behave. I'm generally not around, unless I'm inspecting you for weekly progress. That means I can't stop Ghost if he decides to kill you. I understand nicknames are a necessity here, so I'm going to ask you each your nickname. I've already reviewed your files, so I know your faces. Alright, Daniel McCarther?"

"Archer, Captain Mactavish."

"Randy Anders?"

"Toad, Captain Mactavish."

"Ah, Meat. I believe we met last night... in the, uh... toilets..." Mactavish said awkwardly.

"Uh haha, sorry Captain Mactavish."

"Don't let it happen again Meat."

"It won't sir," Meat said, grinning widely. Roach could only imagine what had happened. Several more men were listed, then came Roach.

"Gary Sanderson?"

"Roach, Captain Mactavish."

"Hmm. Roach, how would you like a small op, Wednesday at 0900? Ghost and I need another member."

"Me? Uh, all due respect sir, but I havn't even done my training!"

"You've been through basics though."

"We've all been through basics. Couldn't somebody else..."

Ghost spoke up.

"Quit refusing the Captain. It's not every day you get an offer instead of an order here. You should be honered." Ghost said.

Roach swallowed.

"Alright sir. I'll go."

Mactavish smiled warmly.

"I'll brief you tomorrow morning after roll call. Don't worry to much. Were not expecting a live fire situation. More of an in and out kind of op." Mactavish said, patting Roach on the shoulder, before moving on to call out the rest of the men.


End file.
